


A Cynic's Guide to the New Golden Age

by Redrikki



Category: Star Wars (Marvel Comics), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Archaeology, Gen, Misses Clause Challenge, Rogue Archaeology, Sort Of, Yuletide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-10 23:59:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12922941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redrikki/pseuds/Redrikki
Summary: The second Death Star goes kabloowie and takes the galaxy with it. It's a new golden age of piracy and Aphra's got some looting to do.





	A Cynic's Guide to the New Golden Age

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Keenir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keenir/gifts).



> Thanks to [irhinoceri](http://archiveofourown.org/users/irhinoceri/pseuds/irhinoceri) for the beta.

Aphra and Black Krrsantan were drinking in some Outer Rim dive when a sliced rebel transmission interrupted the race playing over the bar. They send them out all the time, but this was the first one she’d ever caught live. For such a rag-tag bunch, it was a pretty slick affair. A high-pitched tone over a rebel star-bird caught everyone’s attention, then, bam! They were smack in the middle of some epic space battle around a half-finished space station. 

A woman with a Chandrilan accent, possibly the infamous Mon Mothma herself, explained why they should care. “Hours ago, Alliance forces destroyed the Empire’s new Death Star.” It dutifully exploded, right on cue. “Emperor Palpatine and his chief enforcer, Darth Vader, were both aboard,” Mothma went on as various ships attempted to flee the resulting fireball. “Their reign of terror is over. Long live the New Republic.” 

That was it. Mon Mothma out. Star-bird. Tone. Back to the races. The last of the stragglers limped across the finish line. There was a collective groan from the bar as everyone realized they had missed the best part. 

Krrsantan slammed his down his drink. "Damn rebels," he roared. "I had money riding on that!"

Aphra shook her head and signaled for another drink. “You’re missing the big picture, my friend. Things are about to get crazy.”

Palpatine had ruled like he planned on living forever, or possibly taking the galaxy with him. With him dead and no heir apparent, every admiral, general, and moff with an ounce of ambition were going to be scrambling for their shot at the throne. The so-called New Republic barely had the resources to fend off those assholes, let alone patrol the hyperspace lanes. Yup, they were headed for a real golden age of piracy. Every scum-sucking villain with a space ship was going to be raping and pillaging their way across the galaxy. The next generation of traumatized Aphras was about to be born. She hoped the rebels were proud.

Aphra raised her drink to having one less psycho looking to kill her and knocked it back. She felt bad about all those impending orphans, she really did, but what was she supposed to do? Fly around rescuing them like some kind of hero? The galaxy was no place for innocents and she wasn’t that kind of girl. Aphra threw some credits on the bar and clapped Krrsantan on the shoulder. "Come on. We've got some looting to do."

*****

Six months after the second Death Star went kabloowie and took the galaxy with it, a noise in the ruins of an ancient Jedi temple sent Aphra reaching for her blaster. Oh, why had she left the murder droids back on the ship? Footsteps echoed down the dark corridor. Something hummed, the sound both familiar and hard to place. Aphra waited with baited breath as the footsteps grew closer, closer. The last few months had been just as awful as she’d predicted, even worse than the tail end of the Clone Wars. This time though she wasn’t a scared little girl, as whoever was trying to sneak up on her was about to find out. Her stalker turned the corner, filling the corridor with an eerie, green light. Aphra spun and fired. 

Her shot deflected off a green lightsaber and struck the wall above her head. Holding the lightsaber was none other than— “Luke Skywalker?”

“Aphra?” He didn’t lower his weapon. Neither did she.

Caught in the beam of her headlamp, Luke looked, well, different. Gone was the fresh-faced, fluffy-haired farm boy in his bright yellow jacket. In his place was a man with facial scars and a snazzy black outfit. Even his hair was darker. There had been a time at Ktath’atn when she’d wanted to shake the naive out of him, but seeing how the galaxy had done it for her made her feel...oddly uncomfortable.

“What are you doing here?” They asked simultaneously.

“Oh, you know,” Aphra said with a careless shrug, “archaeologist, archaeological site. Do the math. You?”

“Oh, you know, Jedi, Jedi temple.” Aphra waited for the for the repetition of her punchline, but it never came. “I made a promise to bring back the Jedi. Learning more about them seemed like a good idea.”

So, he was finally admitting he was a Jedi. Well, that might come in handy. “I may be able to help with that.” Aphra made a show of holstering her weapon. “If you trust me.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Luke switched off the lightsaber and clipped it to his belt. “Help how?” he asked warily, his hand never leaving his saber’s hilt. Considering their shared history, it was a pretty sensible move. Aphra couldn’t tell if she was hurt or proud the kid finally knew better than to trust her.

“I think I found the library.” Aphra angled her head so her headlamp illuminated the writing over the doorway. _Ignorance, yet knowledge_. It was a very library sort of sentiment. Or possibly a laboratory. Or a classroom. Only one way to find out.

“Unfortunately, _that_ is in the way.” She pointed her light at the statue of the Nautolan Jedi sprawled across the hallway. Bits of his shattered lightsaber crunched underfoot. “Think you can handle it?” Aphra had been planning on using some of her plastic explosives to blast it away, but using Luke’s Force powers would be so much tidier. Not to mention cheaper.

Luke closed his eyes and reached out his hand. 

“Does closing your eyes really help?” Aphra hoped so. The last time they’d worked together he’d struggled to lift the lid off of a tray and the statue was a whole lot bigger.

Luke nodded without opening his eyes. “Deceive you, your senses can,” he said like that made any kind of sense. 

For a second, nothing happened and then the fallen Jedi rose with a groan. A few loose bits clattered to the floor as Luke set the statue back on its plinth. Luke held his pose for a moment, then opened his eyes to admire his handiwork. She had to admit, it was much more impressive than their last outing. Not as terrifyingly awesome as Vader, but not bad either. 

“Wow,” Aphra drawled. “Should I applaud?”

Luke shot her an annoyed look.

Aphra laughed. “Seriously though, big improvement.” She nodded at the newly restored statue. It was positioned a little awkwardly, slumped against the wall, but whatever. “I’m sure our Jedi friend would be proud.”

She strode across the space he’d recently vacated, toeing bits of his broken lightsaber aside. Luke followed, hot on her heels. What secrets were hidden behind those giant double doors? She hoped there was something really obviously Jedi like saber training manuals or Force philosophy tomes. Junk like that always sold better than just your standard old stuff.

Aphra seized the door handles, ready to yank them open, then hesitated.

“What is it?” Luke crowded in, trying to see why she’d stopped. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Aphra flashed him a winning smile. “Jedi." She gestured to him. "Jedi Temple." She gestured toward the doors. "I thought you should do the honors.” 

She hadn’t encountered any here, but some temples had psychic traps guarding the really good stuff. Better Luke take the brunt of that than her. She stepped back to let him pull open the doors and waited a scream-free minute before following him inside. 

It was definitely a library. Unfortunately, as Aphra swept her light across shelf after empty shelf, it was clear someone had been there before. Whoever it was, the Empire or maybe just anther scavenger, had taken everything. Either that or the Jedi must have done a real thorough job when they packed up the place. There weren’t even the little piles of dust left when books rotted in place.

“Damn. Well, that was a real waste of time.” A whole day scrounging in the dark for nothing. Aphra turned to go. Maybe she should just try to find the training salle. There were bound to be a few lightsabers there, or maybe some lose kyber crystals. One or two might cover the cost of her fuel.

“Wait!” said Luke. “Do you hear that?” Something in his voice made the hairs stand up on the back of her neck. 

“No.” Aphra’s eyes darted wildly around the room as she edged towards the door. “What does it sound like?”

“Singing.” 

Luke drifted through the library’s gloom like a man in a trance. Aphra trailed reluctantly after him, wondering why she didn’t just run. Something weird was going on here, but it didn’t feel like a trap. It better not be a trap. Those were for the scavengers like her, not the Force’s golden child.

Luke turned down an isle and pressed his hand against the wall. There was click and then something shining tumbled into his hand.

Aphra strained to get a look. “Is that a—”

“A holocron.” 

It rose from his hand and burst with a musical tinkling. A heartbeat later they were sharing the isle with a ghost. The wizened Togruta smiled gently. “Your focus determines your reality,” she said. “Expect darkness and it will be all you see but, look for the light, and you’re sure to find it.”

Aphra rolled her eyes. Talk about naive. No wonder the Jedi were all dead. Stupid platitudes aside, it was an amazing find. Ghost Jedi could see whatever she wanted. Aphra was seeing credits. 

The light from the holocron dimmed as the ghost gazed at Aphra in silent reproach. “This is where you try to betray me, isn’t it?” asked Luke. He sounded more tired than surprised. 

“No—” Aphra drew her blaster— “this is where I _actually_ betray you.” They both looked so disappointed and it annoyed the crap out of her. Luke knew exactly who she was when they walked in here, and who was ghost Jedi to judge? “I don’t want to shoot you, but a girl’s gotta eat and those are worth a fortune.”

Luke and the ghostly Jedi exchanged a longing look. “Aphra,” he said, his heart in his eyes, “you know how much I need this. I’ve been here for days. I’ve found lightsabers, kyber crystals, all sorts of valuable stuff. It’s all yours. Just please, please, let me keep this.”

Aphra groaned. Just when she thought he might have wised up. “Why did you tell me that? What’s to stop me from just shooting you and taking all of it?”

“Do you know how Vader died?”

Aphra froze. A minute ago, she would have said blown to smithereens along with everyone else on the Death Star. Now her gaze fell on Luke’s lightsaber. As threats went, it wasn’t exactly subtle, but apparently subtlety was for people who hadn’t killed the galaxy’s biggest baddest badass. “Okay, I get it,” Aphra said, slowly backing away. “I try to screw you, you kill me.”

“No.” Luke shook his head. “You don’t get it at all. He died saving me.”

That stopped her in her tacks. “What?”

“He wanted me to join the Dark Side, but I told him I knew there was still good in him. He proved it by dying to save me from the Emperor,” Luke said with something like wonder in his voice. Even the ghost Jedi looked impressed.

“That—” Aphra shook her head. She’d grown up with a man who had literally thought he could restore peace and light to the galaxy by finding a lost Jedi sect and what Luke just said was still the craziest thing she’d ever heard. Good in Darth Vader? He’d really believed that? That was even dumber than believing there was good in her.

“I know there is good in you too, Aphra,” Luke said with a strange intensity in his voice. Aphra had forgotten what it was like to be liked by this kid. It was like being hugged by pure sunlight; warm, overwhelming, and a heartbeat away from being consumed. Was this how Vader had felt? No wonder he’d died for him.

“I’m not dying for you.”

“I’m not asking you to. Just do the right thing and help me bring some Light and knowledge back to the galaxy.”

Aphra looked him over. She’d thought the dark make-over meant he’d finally wised up, but he hadn’t. If anything, he’d gotten worse. The galaxy was a cold, hard place filled with cold, hard people. It was no place for innocents but, stars help her, she couldn’t bring herself to kill this one, not with her with her blaster and not with disappointment. 

“Alright,” she said, holstering her weapon. She’d take his deal for now. She could always double cross him later, but she knew she probably wouldn’t. Probably.

*****

Triple-Zero and BeeTee were there to greet her when Aphra returned to the ship with her consolation prize. "Good haul, Mistress?" 

Aphra dropped her satchel on the empty co-pilot's seat. Four lightsabers, six kyber crystals, and a largely-intact training manual. It _was_ a good haul, not holocron good, but not bad at all. "Should keep us in fuel and drinks for a few months," she said with a shrug.

Triple-Zero sighed. "Shame you didn't have to kill anyone for it." He looked longingly at the satchel like it might have someone to torture in it. 

BeeTee beeped as the two wandered off in disappointment. "Yes," Triple-Zero agreed, "this trip was rather boring."

Aphra shook her head as she fired up the engine. She could have killed Luke and claimed his stash and the holocron both. She still wasn't exactly sure why she hadn't. It was almost like Aphra had become a good person. Goodish. Less actively awful. It felt...nice. Who knew basic human decency could be this rewarding? Aphra might even stick with it for a little while, at least until reality kicked back in.


End file.
